


Ziggy TARDIS

by redsurge220



Series: Space Oddities [2]
Category: David Bowie (Musician), Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-26
Updated: 2016-02-26
Packaged: 2018-05-23 06:37:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6108188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redsurge220/pseuds/redsurge220
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Major Tom has been rescued and is on the TARDIS. When the Doctor and Martha leave, the ship helps him out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ziggy TARDIS

“So then, Doctor,” the Major said once the noise had stopped, “where are we going?”

  
“I was thinking, and I thought, “How about Mars?” All you humans hear the word alien, and what pops into your brain? Martian! You know, War of the Worlds and all that? Had a friend once—only saw her once, actually—Donna! Loud, she was, and ginger—”

  
“Doctor!” The alien stopped at the doors, hearing Martha’s voice. “You’re doing it again.”

  
“Right. Always going on about—anyway, Mars!”

  
The astronaut spoke up again, curiosity renewed. “Is there life on Mars?”

  
“Oh, not anymore. There was once, but don’t you want to explore without running for your life?”

  
“Does that happen often?”

  
Martha laughed. “More than you’d think. He attracts trouble like a magnet.”

  
“Oi! It’s not always me. I think the TARDIS gets bored if things are too peaceful.”

  
Now Tom’s face was even more confused than curious. “The TARDIS is…your ship?”

  
“Yeah, a sentient one. She’s definitely got a mind of her own, too. Where are you going?” That last was to Martha, who had begun walking quickly back down a hallway. The Major’s next question brought him back to their conversation.

  
“You say your ship…has her own mind? How…” He trailed off, unsure how to finish the sentence.

  
The Doctor grinned and waved a hand. “Time Lord technology, it’s complicated. The TARDISes are actually grown, not built.”  
“Can we see that? I’ve never heard of anything like it, ships being grown.”

  
Suddenly the alien’s face fell; just for a moment, the deepest sorrow was plain on it. As usual, he bounced back quickly. “Nah, why would I want to go home now? We’re on Mars, much more interesting!” He turned to the doors again, only to be stopped once more by Martha.

  
“Doctor, we need space suits! Not all of us can just bypass breathing when it’s inconvenient.” She held them up, an orange bundle and helmet in each hand. “I could only find two, though.”

  
“Well, I’ve a suit, we’ll be fine,” Major Tom pointed out.

  
“Erm, maybe I should take yours. Sorry, but it’s a bit primitive. Humans are brilliant, I always say that, but that is still an early effort, and I don’t like to lose com… people.”

  
Tom wanted to argue, but in the last hour he’d been headed for certain death in space, then been rescued by an alien with advanced technology, a sentient ship, and a motormouth. Switching space suits would be the most sensible thing to happen that day. He stripped off the rest of his suit and reached for one of the orange things Martha handed him. In the middle of redressing, he suddenly felt faint again.

  
“Doctor, if you don’t mind, I might just have a lie down. It’s been a bit of a long day.”

  
“Oh, all right, yeah. I’ll take that suit, then, and, er, we’ll be back. Just don’t wander off, you’ll be fine in the TARDIS.” The alien switched suits and departed with his companion, leaving Major Tom to slump wearily in the captain’s chair, spinning it absentmindedly with his foot. He needed rest, but he couldn’t manage to drift off.

  
“Um, TARDIS, can I call you that?” He felt a little foolish until a humming sound came out of nowhere. “Your—the Doctor—he says you’re sentient. Can you understand me?” Another hum, louder this time.

  
“I’ll take that as a yes. All right. This is probably a silly first question, but are there any proper clothes lying about?” There was silence. The Major looked around to see the floor of the console room illuminated by lights from below, in a line leading down stairs he hadn’t noticed before. Following the path led him down to a door, which he put his hand on and paused. At an encouraging noise, he pushed it open.

  
As requested, there were clothes everywhere, costumes spanning sexes, uses, countries, time periods, and possibly even planets. Tom grinned and moved farther into the room, taking in dresses, suits, tunics, trousers, shoes, coats, and more as he began to climb the spiral staircase in the center. He found a red guitar leaning against a wardrobe and caught it up to play a few chords, perfectly in tune. He held onto it as he moved higher up to ever more fantastic attire. One thing in particular drew his eye: a vertically striped jumpsuit in pale red and gray with wide, orange and green collar and shoulders. It was perfect, and it gave him an idea. He took its hangar and slid down the rail with the instrument in his other hand.

  
After half an hour, the reinvented astronaut emerged, his new look completed. Platform boots matched the crimson guitar, the striped jumpsuit left open to expose his chest. The entire outfit was topped off by makeup, a vermilion wig, and a metallic circle painted on his forehead. He traveled back to the console room, idly strumming along the way.  
Tom played for a while, still alone in the alien ship. The Doctor and Martha hadn’t returned yet, and he felt reinvigorated.

  
“TARDIS?” The ship hummed in reply.

  
“Could you take me home?”

  
There was a pause, and another, almost inaudible, hum. The ship seemed to be considering. Then the rotor began moving abruptly, accompanied by that awful wheezing sound. Tom rushed out the door and was met by several strange humanoid creatures with no hair or ears and catlike yellow eyes. They wore pale gray suits with hoods and darker straps. On the ground was a symbol, an exact replica of that on a black widow’s back. One of them spoke, seemingly in plain English. “What are you called?”

  
Tom was taken aback. This definitely wasn't home, but he had to say something. “I don’t know… Stardust. Ziggy Stardust.”


End file.
